


Four Truths and a Lie

by LugianBeforeSwine



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, please take this from me, this took me way too long to write holy cow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LugianBeforeSwine/pseuds/LugianBeforeSwine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometime during their first year at Shuutoku, Takao had started inviting himself over, without Midorima ever really being aware of it happening." Tribulations and realizations in five parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Truths and a Lie

**one.**

Sometime during their first year at Shuutoku, Takao had started inviting himself over, without Midorima ever really being aware of it happening. He was, of course, cognizant of Takao’s presence in his house, but the actual mechanism of his getting through the door was rather a blur.

Somehow, Takao had managed to win over not only Midorima’s younger sister, but also his parents, and the three of them fairly delighted in seeing Takao in their home (although his parents’ joy was undoubtedly mostly due to the fact that “It’s so nice to see Shintarou made a good friend in high school,” as Midorima had overheard one night.) So, having gained approval and admiration from three-quarters of the household, there was nothing stopping Takao from plopping himself on the floor of Midorima’s bedroom and complaining loudly about homework on a semi-regular basis.

As time went on and Takao began to appear in his home with greater and greater frequency, Midorima began to take notice of a few things. The first was that, although Takao was actually quite intelligent, he simply did not possess the work ethic required to achieve grades that accurately reflected this intelligence, which was a shame but also entirely his fault. The second was that Takao was just as annoying out of school as he was in it, which is to say he was extremely annoying and frankly made Midorima want to punch him with a startling regularity, if only so that he would stop talking for even one brief moment. And the third was that, although Takao was boisterous, unmotivated, and occasionally caused Midorima to gravely consider the pros and cons of Shuutoku mysteriously losing their starting point guard, Midorima genuinely enjoyed when Takao came over.

This had, understandably, come as quite a shock at first. It was as though Midorima’s brain had become traitorous: one second he’d be thinking about how annoying Takao was, and the next second he’d be thinking _I’m glad he’s here._ It was ridiculous. How could Midorima know that Takao had so many faults, and yet want to spend time with him anyway? How could he excuse every bad characteristic Takao had, and cover it up to himself with a thought as banal as _but he’s my friend?_ It didn’t make sense to Midorima.

Until, one day, it did.

On that particular day, Takao had been chattering inanely, as usual, while Midorima attempted to complete his homework. He was barely listening to Takao, as was standard, until something that Takao said in passing caught Midorima’s attention.

“What did you just say?” he asked, looking up sharply from his book.

“Hmm?” Takao sounded confused. “Umm, my ex-girlfriend works at an arcade…?”

_Ex-girlfriend._ Midorima let the word bounce around his brain. It was unpleasant. Something tightened in his chest. He glared at Takao without really meaning to, and Takao immediately put his hands up and laughed, sounding a little strained.

“Whoa, Shin-chan! You look pretty scary!”

“I apologize,” Midorima answered stiffly. There was a distinct feeling that had accompanied the twinge in his chest, and as it suffused through his body, Midorima recognized it.

It was jealousy.

Midorima had not had very much experience with the feeling, as the central focus of his life was basketball, and he had never been jealous of anyone in regards to their abilities in the sport. He was a perfect shooting guard, a Miracle, Shuutoku’s ace—there was never any reason for jealousy to surface on the court. But off of it…

There was no mistaking what this could be. As Takao went back to calmly chattering his ear off, Midorima considered the implications of this feeling surfacing at the specific moment that Takao had mentioned an ex-girlfriend, and came to what he felt was the only obvious conclusion, as troublesome as it was: he had romantic feelings for Takao.

And as soon as he acknowledged this, everything began to fit into place. He was capable of ignoring Takao’s glaring personality flaws. He always secretly enjoyed when Takao invited himself over. Their teamwork on the court and their seemingly improbable friendship off of it were unparalleled. It all made sense.

And it was terrifying.

Midorima hurriedly adjusted his glasses. His heartbeat had sped up. He was reasonably certain his face was steadily coloring. His hands felt sweaty. And Takao, with his damned hawkeye, would certainly notice these things.

And sure enough: “Are you okay, Shin-chan? You look kinda red.” Takao looked genuinely worried. Now what was Midorima supposed to say?

“I’m fine, Takao. I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He quickly lifted his book in front of his face, but not before catching the still-worried expression on Takao’s face.

“Maybe you should take a break from studying,” Takao suggested.

“Preposterous,” Midorima scoffed, but this did not deter Takao.

When Takao gently pried the book from Midorima’s hands, there was nothing he could do but face the source of his current unruly state. _Damn you, Takao, this is all your fault…_

Takao’s worried expression vanished, and a surprised one replaced it. “Shin-chan,” Takao said wonderingly, “are you blushing?”

“I most certainly am not!” Midorima spat. “What a ridiculous thing to say!”

“You are,” Takao said. He still looked rather amazed. “Shin-chan, you are. I…”

Takao’s proximity and the repeated use of that awful nickname were not helping Midorima’s current situation, and he was left completely helpless when Takao suddenly stood up.

“I, umm,” he said as he gathered his notebooks into his backpack, “I have to go.” He took one last look at Midorima and his expression softened for a brief moment. Then he seemed to snap out of it. “Yeah, uhh, I’ll see you later, okay?” And with a quick wave, he was gone.

Midorima remained stock still until he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Then he promptly dropped his face into his hands.

What the hell had that been about? Why had Takao left so suddenly? Had Midorima unknowingly done something to jeopardize their friendship?

It was all he could think about for the rest of the day, and well into the night. Midorima was not expecting Takao to return his feelings, but if their friendship had been damaged because of something Midorima had done, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Finally, as he contemplated the power Takao now (hopefully unknowingly) held over him, and all its implications, his eyes closed and he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

**two.**

The main problem with Shin-chan, according to Takao, is that he has no sense of self-awareness off of a basketball court. He knows exactly how to use his abilities in tandem with his teammates’ to bring victory to Shuutoku, but is somehow incapable of noticing the veritable hoards of girls who fawn over him on a daily basis.

It is Takao who experiences the second-hand embarrassment as he watches yet another girl try to strike up a conversation with “cool, aloof Midorima-kun,” and he isn’t even sure who he feels more embarrassment for: the poor girl who will never draw his attention, or stupid Shin-chan, who could practically have a harem at this point if only he would take notice of other people’s emotions.

Secretly, though, Takao is glad that the most Shin-chan ever says to these girls is a curt “Good morning.” His reason for this is awfully selfish, but there is nothing he can do about it. He’s in love with his ridiculous Shin-chan.

He had recognized this for what it was at once. Despite Shin-chan’s icy exterior, he was really a caring and passionate person, and he had allowed Takao to see this. Takao prided himself on knowing more about Shin-chan than anyone else, except maybe Shin-chan’s middle school captain, but that was a different matter which Takao tried not to think about too often. Takao doubted that anyone else had studied Shin-chan as closely as he had; had catalogued his facial expressions and correlated them with his true feelings; had gotten close enough to him to be considered an actual friend.

And therein lay the problem. Takao had finally worn Shin-chan down enough (using his considerable charm and unflagging patience, of course) for him to consider Takao his friend, and if Takao were to ruin that friendship by admitting his feelings, he would be beside himself with grief.

So it’s all he can do to watch girl after girl fail to catch Shin-chan’s interest, and count each failed attempt as a tiny victory. He doesn’t think he’ll get any bigger victories than that, until the Day of the Unmistakable Blush.

Takao had honestly mentioned his ex-girlfriend in passing, not meaning to place any significance on the subject. But he had watched Shin-chan react before his eyes, seeming to process his own feelings in slow-motion.

It was beautiful to watch, and Takao found himself transfixed and more than a little surprised. Could this mean…? Did Shin-chan have…? But he didn’t want to get ahead of himself; that would only be setting himself up for failure. The best he could do at the present time was to leave before he did something decidedly untoward, like throw his arms around Shin-chan’s neck and kiss him.

That thought propelled him out the door, and although he felt bad for leaving so abruptly, it was truly the best course of action.

That didn’t stop him from imagining what could have happened if he had acted more rashly (and if Shin-chan actually returned his feelings, which was unlikely, he sternly reminded himself.) Shin-chan would be so embarrassed by the kiss that he’d turn an even deeper shade of red; Takao would tell him how adorable he is; Shin-chan would pretend to be mad but would secretly be pleased; Takao would halt their school studies in order to give Shin-chan a formal education in kissing…

Takao rolled over in his bed, burying his face in his pillow. This was ridiculous. Shin-chan did not harbor any feelings for him that were not strictly platonic; Takao would just have to accept this, and continue to be there for him as a very good friend. After all, that was all he would ever be, and that should have been enough.

**(three.)**

Takao is wearing his glasses again.

He doesn’t remember them being removed from his face, but as he reaches up and touches the bridge of his nose, he is forced to conclude that Takao must have indeed removed them from him at some point.

Not that petty details like that matter right now. Right now, they’re sitting on Takao’s bed, and Takao is making that ludicrous expression that’s somewhere between a grin and a smirk; he knows Midorima is powerless in its wake and couldn’t resist him even if he wanted to.

As it stands, Midorima certainly does not want to resist.

Takao stares into his eyes and says “Shin-chan,” and Midorima feels as though someone has suddenly knocked the wind out of him, but in a…good way? Ignoring this interesting piece of information for now, Midorima summons up the ability to level a glare at Takao, although there’s really not much venom behind it.

Takao sighs through his nose, a short puff of air, and his hybrid grin-smirk turns into more of an obliging smile. “Sorry,” he says, and pauses dramatically before saying, “Shintarou.”

For all his fussing and complaining about it, Midorima is not really all that bothered by Takao’s ridiculous nickname for him. There is, however, something about hearing Takao say his full, real name that sends what feels like a jolt of electricity down his spine.

Apparently satisfied with Midorima’s reaction, Takao’s attention turns to a different matter. “Would you like your glasses back, Shintarou?” he asks, the picture of innocence. He even appears to be pouting a little, as if he would regret parting with them.

Midorima’s thoughts are a jumbled mess, but a couple lines are currently jumping out at him. “He wants you to take them back.” “But I like it when he wears them.” “Yes, but he wants you to play along, idiot.”

The last thought spurs him into action. “Yes, please,” he says, trying his best to imitate Takao’s innocent pout. He’s not entirely convinced he’s managed to pull it off, but evidently it was good enough for Takao, which is all that matters. He lowers his eyelashes but raises his head, somehow managing to look seductive instead of ridiculous, and says,

“Then come get them.”

Midorima smiles. Takao is perfect. He leans forward on the bed and Takao leans back, grinning openly. Midorima reaches a hand forward; Takao grabs it and brings it to his lips. How is Midorima supposed to concentrate on retrieving his glasses when Takao is placing gentle kisses on his fingers? If it’s already getting difficult to focus, the task will only become more challenging from here on out.

But that’s the fun of it, Midorima supposes. They’ll both win, in the end.

When Midorima reaches out with his other hand, Takao grabs that one too, shaking his head and laughing. “Silly Shin-chan,” he says, and repeats his treatment on Midorima’s other hand.

Midorima’s smile only grows. “Hmm, what now?” he wonders out loud, and Takao raises his eyebrows and keeps right on grinning.

Midorima casts a brief glance behind him, making sure there is enough room on the bed for him to successfully carry out his next planned maneuver, and when he determines that there is, he grips Takao’s hands tightly and pulls backwards. His back hits the bed; his legs slide out in front of him just in time for Takao’s body to land between them, and Takao is laughing with his head on Midorima’s chest, their hands still clasped together.

When Takao looks up, Midorima sees that the glasses have slipped down the bridge of his nose. Success. “Well played, Shin-chan,” Takao says.

“I certainly thought it was a winning strategy,” Midorima replies.

“You haven’t won yet,” Takao says mildly, and shimmies up Midorima’s body until they’re face-to-face.

Well. A point for Takao, Midorima thinks as the room begins to feel hotter.

The glasses are dangling directly over his face now. If only he could wrestle out of Takao’s grip on his hands…or maybe…

Midorima leans up and kisses him. Takao freezes for a fraction of a second, which is all the time Midorima needs. He frees one of his hands, moves his face away from Takao’s, and snatches the glasses right off Takao’s nose.

“Aww, Shin-chan!” Takao whines. “You cheated!”

“I did no such thing,” Midorima replies, placing the glasses back on his own face. “I simply used available resources to my advantage.”

“Yeah, like my feelings,” Takao says, releasing Midorima’s other hand and sitting up.

For a brief moment, Midorima is worried. Perhaps his actions did genuinely hurt Takao? But then, he was only playing the game, wasn’t he?

But when Midorima sits up, Takao is smiling, and the little fears rush out of him.

“It’s okay, Shin-chan,” Takao says. “I know you love me.”

“Of course I do,” Midorima replies instantly. The air in the room is really getting quite hot; is the space heater in Takao’s room on?

Takao grins wildly. “Shin-chan, I love you so much!” he cries, flinging his arms around Midorima and effectively pushing them back into their previous position.

“I love you too,” Midorima says, and there’s only the smallest of pauses before he adds, “Kazunari.”

Takao doesn’t say anything to that; instead, he snuggles his face into the side of Midorima’s neck. After Midorima waits what feels like an appropriate amount of time, he asks quietly, “Now how about I kiss you properly?”

Takao lifts his head, and his smile is perhaps the most beautiful thing that Midorima has ever seen, and he feels immensely lucky as he leans forward to claim that smile with his own—

“Shintarou! You’re going to be late for school!”

Midorima opens his eyes. His mother is standing in his room. _Oh no._ He instinctively draws his blanket a little closer around himself.

“Shintarou,” his mother says, “are you feeling ill? It’s not like you to sleep through your alarm.”

“No,” Midorima answers quickly. “No, I’m fine.”

His mother looks skeptical. “Don’t go to school if you’re not feeling well. You wouldn’t want to spread germs to your classmates.”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” Midorima says, hoping he sounds convincing.

Apparently, he does. “If you’re sure,” his mother says, a little warily. “Hurry up, then.”

As soon as his mother shuts the door behind herself, Midorima buries his face in his pillow, too distraught to even care that he’s running late. He had had another dream. As he reaches over to grab his glasses, more details come flooding back, and his face reddens against his will. A dream about Takao wearing his glasses. A dream about holding hands with Takao, kissing Takao, telling Takao that he loves—

_Takao!_ Midorima jumps out of bed and rushes to the bathroom to begin hastily brushing his teeth. Takao was probably still waiting for him outside his house, and as embarrassing as the dream had been, Midorima can’t deny that he still really wants to see him.

**four.**

Here’s the thing about desperately pining over your best friend: it sucks. Takao has known this fact since the very beginning of his ill-advised crush on Shin-chan, but it becomes especially apparent on one day in particular. Takao and Shin-chan are cleaning up the gym following their extra practice session when Shin-chan drops a bomb on him.

“Takao,” he says suddenly, “how do you confess to someone?”

Takao’s stomach drops. He gapes at Shin-chan, who, for his part, is trying very hard to act casual, but is also blushing and attempting (unsuccessfully) to obscure his face using a basketball.

“Umm,” Takao says eloquently. He briefly notes the fact that his hands have begun to shake. “Do you…” he starts before he can stop himself, “like someone?”

_Of course he does. Why else would he be asking you this?_

The taping on Shin-chan’s pointer finger suddenly becomes very interesting. “Err…well…yes. I suppose I do.”

Neither of them are looking at each other. Takao kind of feels like he wants to vomit. And yet, he thinks, he should have seen this coming. It’s not surprising, after all, that one of the girls vying desperately for Shin-chan’s attention has finally made an impact on him; it was ridiculous to even harbor the notion that Shin-chan could ever have feelings for him.

Takao allows himself one moment of selfish dramatics, and thinks _he’s asking me to aid him in breaking my own heart._

And yet, who else could he have asked? Takao was Shin-chan’s best friend. And he would never be anything more.

“Oh,” Takao says finally. “Well, first you should get her alone…” This was difficult. This was more difficult than he had anticipated. What if he starts crying? He really, really hopes he doesn’t start crying.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Shin-chan wince. At what? he wonders, but forges on. “Before you tell her that you…like her…you should compliment her. Umm, and say something about how you like spending time with her. And then…”

_Has Shin-chan ever spent time with a girl outside of school? How could he, when he’s with me all the time?_

“…and then, you tell her how you feel.” His stomach is roiling; he might actually vomit. “Umm, sorry, Shin-chan, I’ll be right back!”

As Takao turns and runs to the nearest bathroom, he hears Shin-chan call his name, but it sounds far away, and he doesn’t look back.

As he’s locking himself into a stall, tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, and he angrily brushes them away. This was ridiculous. He had been doomed from the start, and he had known it. There was nothing to mourn, because there had never been anything to lose in the first place. Shin-chan trusted him enough to ask him about something personal and private; that should have made Takao happy. He should have been excited that his friend would get to experience something that every teenage boy dreamed about.

Instead, here he was in a toilet stall, red-faced and shaking, with tears steadily streaking down his cheeks. And he was still going to have to take Shin-chan home; see him and interact with him and pretend to be overjoyed at his finally having found someone worthy of his affections—

Takao takes a deep breath. He could do this. He was good at hiding his emotions; after all, he had kept a huge secret from Shin-chan himself for quite some time. He would just have to get through the rest of the day, and then tomorrow everything could go back to normal. His feelings would fade eventually, especially after seeing Shin-chan and his new girlfriend together. It would be all right, he assures himself. It would just take time.

He exits the stall, cleans himself up in the mirror, and walks back into the gym, where Shin-chan is putting the last of the basketballs away and looking rather… _determined?_ Takao doesn’t want to think about what that expression might mean. Instead, he walks halfway to where Shin-chan is standing, calls “Ready to go?” in the most stable voice he can manage, and Shin-chan’s head jerks up.

“Yes,” he replies, “let’s go.”

On the way back to his house, Shin-chan says, “Thank you for your help, Takao. I will certainly use the information you gave me.”

Takao is glad Shin-chan can’t currently see his face. “Sure thing,” he replies mildly.

Those are the only words they speak to each other until Shin-chan says “See you tomorrow, Takao,” as he begins walking up to his house.

“Yeah,” Takao answers.

And that’s the end of that.

**five.**

Midorima has decided to not waste any time. After witnessing Takao’s reaction to his question the previous day, he knows that Takao has misconstrued his intentions, and he cannot let that stand for any longer than is strictly necessary.

Midorima spends most of the brief interval between asking about how to confess and the morning of the day he plans to do the confessing pacing around his room, muttering to himself, and occasionally blushing furiously. Every plan he formulates will have the same major risk, he knows: that Takao will not feel the same way, and infinitely worse, that he will end their friendship because of it.

Nevertheless, Midorima knows that he can’t keep on pretending that his feelings don’t exist. And, he reasons, why would Takao have had such an extreme reaction to Midorima’s question about confessing if it hadn’t caused him some form of distress? For all that Takao makes fun of him for being socially oblivious, he knows Takao, and he suspects that his feelings are indeed returned.

Banking on his knowledge of Takao and hoping against hope that he isn’t wrong, he plans what he wants to say and when he wants to say it, and exits his house in the morning to find Takao waiting for him, as usual. _Good, so he wasn’t shaken up that badly._

“Good morning, Takao,” he says.

Takao’s smile is so obviously forced it nearly makes Midorima wince. “Morning, Shin-chan,” he replies, and then they’re off.

Takao does not offer any conversation, and Midorima is content to keep it that way. Takao’s pain (and it is apparent that he is indeed in pain) won’t last much longer; Midorima has planned to have his confession take place in the brief period between the end of their last class and the start of practice.

When lunch time rolls around, Takao rubs the back of his head and says “I’m gonna go to the library,” and leaves before Midorima has the chance to say anything.

Perhaps he had underestimated how deeply this was affecting Takao. Perhaps he should have done the confessing right after he had learned how to do it properly.

But in the end, he thinks, as he watches Takao’s retreating back, all he can do is stick with the plan and hope that everything turns out well.

Now if he could just get rid of his damn blush every time he thinks about it—

Well, there’s no point in following Takao, so Midorima takes his lunch by himself.

By the end of his last class, Midorima is shaking with nerves and is sure his face is the color of an overripe tomato. Why was he so nervous? He had gone over this in his head all morning and most of the previous night! He was fairly certain the outcome would be favorable, so why did this feel so difficult?

“Takao,” Midorima says, as they’re exiting their class, “could you come with me for a moment?”

Takao gives him a confused look. “Well, yeah, I’ll come with you. Aren’t we going to practice?”

“In a minute,” Midorima says, walking the opposite way from the gym. Takao follows him, quietly curious.

By the time they reach the empty upstairs hallway, Midorima’s heart is pounding and he’s unsure if he’ll be able to complete his task. _But it will be worth it_ , he reminds himself. _You must do this._

He takes a deep breath. “Takao,” he begins, and awkwardly clears his throat. His voice sounds shaky. His hands _are_ shaking. It’s all rather a mess, but he presses on.

“Recently, I’ve come to realize…” he gives a small shake of his head. _No, no, that’s not how it’s supposed to go._ “I apologize if this seems sudden, but…” _No! What are you doing?!_ “Well…”

Takao is staring at him with wide eyes. His mouth is open the slightest bit; it appears as though he’s hanging on Midorima’s every word. It’s quite distracting.

Midorima abruptly decides to forgo his plan, stares helplessly at Takao, and rushes through what ends up being the truth of the matter. “Takao, I greatly enjoy being with you. You are…well…my best friend, as I’m sure you’re aware. And even though you are often obnoxious, childish, and downright annoying, I still value your friendship more than…anyone else’s. So please tell me if I am being presumptuous or otherwise indecent, but…I would like very much if…if you…if we could…” He finds that he can’t continue. His face is on fire, his heart is surely going to explode out of his chest at any moment, and Takao currently looks like someone just told him he had won the lottery, but had no official proof to present to him.

“Shin-chan,” he says quietly, after a moment, “are you…are you confessing to me?”

Midorima fairly explodes. “Of course I am, you idiot! What else could I possibly be doing?!”

Takao lets out a little surprised gasp; then his face breaks into a blinding grin, the pure intensity of which could give the sun a run for its money. “Shin-chan!” he nearly shouts. “Were you asking me for advice because—”

“Because I like you, Takao,” Midorima interrupts. There. He had said it. It was done. He covers his face with his hands, peeking through his fingers at the elated expression on Takao’s face.

“I can’t believe it,” Takao says. “Shin-chan, our great ace-sama, has bestowed this gift upon a commoner like me—”

“Takao,” Midorima growls, removing his hands from his face.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Takao says quickly, laughing jubilantly. After a moment, he quiets down. “You know I like you too, right, Shin-chan?”

“Well I didn’t until you said it,” Midorima grumbles petulantly.

Takao just laughs. “You’re so cute,” he says openly. The blush that had finally been making its retreat from Midorima’s face comes back with a vengeance. “But we’re going to be late for practice if we don’t hurry.” He pauses, and then: “Wanna hold hands on the way to the gym?”

That cheeky smile is going to be the death of Midorima’s sanity. “Takao, you know we can’t.”

“Yeah,” Takao says, still smiling. “Some other time soon, though, okay?”

Midorima gives a stiff nod. He’s obviously overjoyed that Takao does indeed return his feelings, but still, something doesn’t seem quite right. Midorima stops at the top of the stairs; Takao makes it down three of them before he turns around. “Aren’t you coming?”

Midorima stares at him for a moment, makes a quick and potentially risky decision, and walks down two steps until he’s standing directly in front of Takao. “This might be—”

This is not the time for words. He huffs, leans forward, and presses his lips to Takao’s, just long enough for him to register the sensation; then he draws back and takes a deep breath.

Takao looks shocked for a moment before that beautiful grin returns. “Shin-chan, I love you!” he exclaims, probably too loudly for propriety, but in that moment Midorima doesn’t care about anyone finding them. Takao has just said the words that reverberate through Midorima’s dreams; and the reality, he finds, is infinitely better.

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes:  
> 1\. I wanted to include more angst on Midorima's part, but I also really wanted to include his almost-sexy dream, and, well, you can see which one ended up being more important to me >:)  
> 2\. The title just refers to the fact that there are 5 parts total, and one of them (the dream) didn't actually happen (so it's the "lie".)  
> 3\. There's always a convenient empty hallway, isn't there? haha


End file.
